


Why Are You Dragon Me Out in the Middle of the Night?

by musicmillennia



Series: The Unusuals [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon Riders, Gen, Shapeshifting, The Boys are Idiots and the Girls are Fab, so pretty much the usual but with dragons, soul bonds, yes this title is also a pun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3878350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D'Artagnan, a new recruit among the Musketeers, leaves a strange note saying that he "had to" trek up Unbound Mountain--a place packed to the bedrock with feral dragons--in the middle of the night.</p><p>Athos just knows he's getting a new scar out of this; his dragon is inclined to agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Are You Dragon Me Out in the Middle of the Night?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobinLorin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinLorin/gifts).



> Thanks so much to RobinLorin for giving this a read and me the confidence to post it! :D I don't speak Spanish, so I'm sorry if I make a mistake at the end. Just tell me and I can fix it!
> 
> I hope you all like it. May the Fourth be with you.

It was not that Athos detested being happy; he simply thought he did not deserve to be happy. So when Aramis pounds on his garrison dormitory, Athos wakes himself up and trudges to answer whatever ridiculous, undoubtedly headache-inducing request his friend and wing-mate had for him.

The last thing he expects is to find Aramis panting as if he’d sprinted all the way to Athos’ room, looking at him with wide-eyed panic. Immediately Athos grabs his jacket and weapons’ belt.

Aramis explains breathlessly, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, “D’Artagnan—he’s headed for Unbound.”

The panic on his face transforms into cold talons, stabbing Athos’ chest.

 _Athos?_ Milady’s voice fills his mind, hard and anxious. _What is it?_

Unbound Mountain—dragons who couldn’t form a Bond before reaching adulthood are kept there. Feral and dangerous, not to be approached by a lone seasoned warrior, let alone a reckless youth only just recruited into the Musketeers.

“Why the hell is he going up there?!” Athos hisses, taking off after Aramis. The only reason he’s not raising his voice is the repercussions that would fall on D’Artagnan should he get caught trekking up that cursèd rock.

“He left a note in his room—Porthos is already heading after him—said he _had_ to go up there.”

 _Had_ to—Athos is already getting a headache. “When did Porthos find the note?”

“Only a few minutes ago. We have no idea when D’Artagnan left, only that he’s definitely had enough time to leave the garrison.”

 _Merde_. And they can’t catch up to him on their dragons; that was just asking for everyone to wake up and wonder what’s going on. Milady’s frustrated by the prospect, but she knows he’s right.

The spring night is cool on Athos and Aramis’ faces, but it does nothing to stop the white hot fear twisting in their stomachs. Unbound looms ominously under the moonlight, a deadly silhouette with moving shadows of wings and tails wandering along its summit.

 _Be careful,_ Milady implores. Her fear for his safety floods his system, a warning as much as proof of her affection. _If one of them dares try to harm you, I will not hesitate to fly after you._

Athos does not doubt that Adèle had told Aramis something very similar. He promises Milady that he will be as careful as he can and increases his pace.

Fortunately, in a garrison full of dragons, nobody pays much attention to horses taking an inexplicable ride in the middle of the night. Jacques is snoring away in his little room just off the stables when Athos and Aramis arrive. Two other horses are already gone.

“Bareback,” Athos huffs, opening Roger’s stall. If D’Artagnan really had taken a horse at God knows when, they’ve no time for saddling up. Aramis has no objections.

They take off from the stables as fast as they are able. Athos borrows Milady’s eyesight so he can see beyond what little ground the moon illuminates; the last thing any of them need is for him to stumble and fall.

He uses his new vision to search for traces of heat traveling up Unbound. Sure enough, he spots D’Artagnan and Porthos, but that is the good news. The bad news—

Aramis curses in Spanish. Athos doesn’t have to glance over to see his wing-mate’s eyes are Adèle’s vertical pupils and frosty pink irises. He sees it too: Porthos is about a quarter of the way up the winding path to Unbound’s summit, but D’Artagnan—D’Artagnan.

That stupid pup is already halfway there.

“What can we do?” Aramis demands, and Athos does not have an answer that doesn’t result in D’Artagnan’s immediate expulsion from the garrison.

Then, as if to answer her wing-mate’s question, Samara makes an abrupt entrance. Her midnight blue scales and gold snout shine magnificently in the moonlight, but admiring her is a luxury Athos cannot afford at the moment, because _what on Earth is she doing?!_

Milady replies, _All three of us would be suspicious, but perhaps just the one going for a late night flight will keep everyone in their beds._

She is correct in that no one would think it strange under normal circumstances, but this close to Hatching Day, with a dragon flying directly over Unbound—

_Athos. We will not let you go alone. Neither will we allow D’Artagnan to be taken from us. You know I’m right._

Samara catches up to Porthos, who instantly jumps off his horse and onto her back. Together they reach D’Artagnan. Athos lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as Samara snatches their youngest safely into her talons and glides down to the lake at the base of the mountain.

“Thank God,” Aramis says weakly as they slow their horses into an easy trot.

Samara is still holding D’Artagnan as Porthos dismounts. He waits for the other two to jump off their horses and jog to him before he gestures to their resident idiot.

“You ever seen anythin’ like this?”

Athos scrubs a hand down his face as he takes in D’Artagnan. The young man is struggling against Samara’s hold with no sign of stopping, rambling about “she” is “calling him” and how he “has to get to her” as soon as possible.

“Can an Unbound dragon actually call…?” Aramis trails off at the absurdity of the idea. Dragons on that wretched mountain are too far gone to have the stability of mind to reach out to anyone.

Yet what else could this be?

“What do we do?” Porthos asks.

There’s a beat of quiet between them until Aramis gazes at Unbound and says what they’re all thinking but don’t want to suggest.

“What if we let him go?” neither Athos nor Porthos answer him. “Think about it—how can he suffer expulsion from the regiment if he forms a Bond with this dragon? We’ll all go with him, and Samara I am sure will be delighted to accompany us if this turns out to be some sudden bout of illness.”

Porthos shrugs a shoulder. “Samara wants us to know that we are all complete idiots, but she’ll come with us.”

Aramis turns to their leader. “Athos?”

Athos stares at D’Artagnan a moment longer, sees the tormented curve of his brow, the sweat on his forehead. He needs new wing-mates; these bastards are too difficult to refuse.

Porthos claps his back, “Samara’ll take us up.”

Aramis holds up a finger. “Oh, and Adèle would like to say that—give me a moment to translate—if we survive this, she is going to rip our faces off and switch them. Apparently Athos would look absolutely charming with my lips.”

“Naturally,” Athos deadpans as soon as Milady snarls, _I think you would look better with Porthos’ cheeks_.

What a lovely evening this is.

(&)

Samara curls protectively in front of Porthos as soon as she lands and their boots hit the ground. She releases D’Artagnan only when her Rider reminds her of the reason they’ve come up here.

D’Artagnan scrambles to his feet and takes off at a run.

“Stay here,” Athos orders.

“What?!” Aramis snaps, unknowingly in unison with Milady. “Athos—”

“Just do as I say!” Athos shouts, running after the lad.

It’s pandemonium. The sudden movements cause the dragons to immediately spring into action. Milady’s anger and fear escalate as Athos narrowly avoids the mad dragons’ jaws by rolling and leaping out of the way after D’Artagnan, who seems to know exactly where he’s going.

Somehow they make it into one of the caves in one piece, but Athos can tell from the restless pounding in his Bond that Milady is preparing to fly to his aid. Anything he says to attempt to deter her would only have her angry with him later, after she comes after him.

And if _she_ is coming, then there is a definite chance that—

A shout of pain catches his ears, but Athos knows he looks back at his own risk. The caves are filled with feral dragons, and it’s even harder to avoid getting sliced. How D’Artagnan is managing it in his hysterics is beyond him.

Adèle will protect Aramis when she arrives, hopefully not bringing the rest of the garrison behind her. She’s a more vocal dragon, unlike Milady, who is built for stealth as a Shadow Elemental. With any luck she won’t—roar…damn it.

This had better not be a fool’s errand.

Athos follows D’Artagnan deep into the caves. He has never been this far into Unbound Mountain, and the rocky terrain under his feet has him stumbling like a newborn babe, which he cannot afford to do here. He achieves a three-way junction before D’Artagnan veers left and suddenly Athos’ arm erupts in burning pain.

Milady screeches in his mind, but he keeps going. He’ll be damned if he allows D’Artagnan to venture into this territory alone.

His back is next. It feels as if his blood is boiling. He cuts his hands from sliding along the cave floor and forcing himself to stand once more. Milady is begging him to turn around, to come to her so she can protect him, but he pays her no heed. He is nothing if not stubborn when it comes to his fools of friends.

He is losing blood fast. D’Artagnan better slow down soon.

They reach an inner chamber with a skylight far above, and Athos no longer has the energy to spare on having Milady’s vision. At last, D’Artagnan seems to have reached “her”—a dragon curled into herself in the shadows. Judging by the Mark Athos can just make out on her forehead she is a Sigil like Adèle, not Elemental. Absent-mindedly, Athos hopes she is a Patience or Knowledge dragon, because God knows D’Artagnan needs those.

Speaking of D’Artagnan, he’s slid on his knees in front of her, crooning nonsense as he cradles her snout in his hands. Even as his eyes shine with his new Bond, he is worried. What is wrong with her?

Athos staggers a step towards the pair, but it turns out to be all he can accomplish. Blood loss and adrenaline has left him dizzy and breathless, and his body is unable to keep him upright any longer.

 _Anne._ Even his mind-voice is faint. _Anne._

He collapses just as the feral dragons snap their jaws. They spring upon him—

 _ATHOS!_ Milady bursts into the chamber with a thunderous bellow, eyes blazing, wings and talons swiping at any and all beasts who threaten her Rider. Her body covers his own in its shadow, letting the mindless dragons know that he is under her protection.

Athos allows himself to shudder with relief before he succumbs to exhaustion.

(&)

“Athos?” that’s D’Artagnan. Has he come to his senses then?

“D’Artagnan, be quiet.” Anne. In human form? Why?

_Calm, Athos. Everyone is safe. You’re lying in a cot in the infirmary. You lost a lot of blood, remember?_

How could he forget? His back and arm are certainly sore enough. He opens his eyes slowly, mindful of possible sunlight hurting his eyes. Instead of having to readjust, however, Anne has thrown a shadow over the window.

D’Artagnan is at his side in an instant, looking guilty—as he should be— _Anne, stop that_ —and apologetic. “Athos,” he says, “I am so sorry, I never meant—”

Athos interrupts him with a quiet, yet firm, “D’Artagnan, I trust our little adventure was not a fruitless one?”

A smile lights D’Artagnan’s face, unbidden. “She was injured in a fight,” he whispers, “But with Milady and Samara’s help, we got you both out.”

Injured…Athos is on his side due to his back, but he attempts to roll over anyway. “Aramis?”

Anne’s hand clenches on his shoulder, keeping him still. “Right behind you and perfectly alright. Say hello, Aramis.”

Aramis dutifully giggles out a, “Hello, Aramis!”

Athos’ eyebrow rises. “Is he—?”

“Drugged?” D’Artagnan grins, “Absolutely.”

“A Poison got him in the side,” that’s Adèle. Her tone is civil enough, but stiff with anger. “I delivered him to Lemay just in time.”

Aramis whines, “No-o-o-o, you’re upset, don’ be upset! _Mi_ _compañera_ _querida_ , _te amo_!”

Adèle’s anger breaks into a huff of exasperated laughter. “Go back to sleep, dear.”

Athos rolls his eyes. “Where is Porthos?”

“Getting some lunch with Samara,” a new voice replies, a woman’s. By the besotted look on D’Artagnan’s face, Athos knows exactly who she is before she introduces herself.

She is certainly lovely: red-brown curls cascading past her shoulders, a kind smile, and an open face. Her Sigil Mark is visible on her collarbone, that of Strength.

“You can call me Constance,” she says, “Thank you for what you did. I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble.”

Athos fixes D’Artagnan with a hard look, one the lad sheepishly looks away from. “All I can say, Mademoiselle,” he says, still staring the younger man down, “is that you have quite the challenge ahead of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
